Harlan Was Right

The first convention that I ever went to was DragonCon. It's theme was ostentatiously dragons and fantasy and such, but as it turned out that was all window dressing for its real job of showcasing kickass music. In between sets, I attended a number of question and answer sessions that featured Harlan Ellison. (For those not in the know, Harlan Ellison is America's preeminent teller of Harlan Ellison stories. He also writes Harlan Ellison nonfiction, and the occasional short story.) Along with discussing with discussing his war against the internet, and his desire to see a good majority of the room die in agony, he asked a very good question. Why the hell were the people running the convention fine with allowing bootleggers to run wild through their vendor rooms?

I went to a Horror convention a few weeks ago, primarily because I wanted to see Voltaire again. During this time, I was disturbed to realize how very much the sight of badly photocopied DVD covers is beginning to annoy me. I know the arguments in favor of bootleggers. They are still the only places you can get the first episode of Twin Peaks, or Torchwood, or that cartoon where the entire cast of Looney Tunes dressed up in blackface and made fun of the Japanese. But the list of what only bootleggers can provide shrinks yearly. Not that this stops them. That semi-obscure Korean movie they offer for twenty dollars is freely available in America for... twenty dollars. The European release of Terror Death Lake with new footage? That new footage is also included in the deluxe release. That set of obscure British comedies you want? Oh, they don't have that shit. Would you like a fuzzier copy of Transformers The Movie than what you could find at Target?

I can understand wanting things you can't get. I can understand wanting not to pay for things, or to pay eighty bucks less than retail. Paying about the same price for an item of equal or lesser value... well, it makes me want to shake people, and tell them to support their own damn genre.

Admittedly this time there were only two bootleggers in the building. However, this was a smallish convention, and they had the very best spots to hawk their wares, just outside of the main convention hall. Meanwhile, some of the producers of original content were in the alternate vendor room. That would be the one that could only be found after walking down two separate hallways, down a flight of stairs, and into a room that was amazingly free of foot traffic. I might not ever watch a Troma film again, but I can still feel sorry for the bastards.

I planned this to naturally segue into how I met Voltaire again, and almost learned how to please a woman. Unfortunately, I am running late for a gothic ice cream social, so I'll have to leave you with vague promises to discuss the lighter side of horror conventions at a later date.